


Blood is Blood

by claudia6913



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Angst, Blood, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-24
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2018-01-02 13:15:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1057209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claudia6913/pseuds/claudia6913
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>mid Season 5 when Dawn finds out she is the key.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood is Blood

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** Joss owns all ... just playing in the garden.

She wasn’t real, wasn’t there. All she could think was how? Why? She felt real enough. Blood, emotion, tears…they didn’t lie, did they? The blood that ran from her wrist was real enough, wasn’t it?

“What am I?” Dawn asked, tears in her voice. It hadn’t hurt, not really, to cut herself. It was easier then she had thought it would be. Maybe it was due to the knife being as sharp as it was, or could the monks have possibly gotten her skin wrong? Made it so that when she cut it didn’t hurt as much as it would have done had she been real.

Everyone flocked around her, telling her that of course her blood was real. It was red, the same as everyone else’s. Nevertheless, it wasn’t, not really. She wasn’t real, she wasn’t born. She’d been made, forged by monks into this form. 

Dawn’s eyes flicked upon Spike who had not rushed up to her, but had hung back, cigarette dangling in his hand as he watched them clean up her blood. ‘He’d know,’ Dawn thought. Spike was a vampire after all, blood was their life. He would be able to tell if her blood was real or not. 

Trying desperately to get them to leave her alone, Dawn didn’t see as Spike slipped quietly out of the house. It took Dawn almost an hour of persuasion to get her sister, the Slayer, to leave her alone. She hadn’t wanted all of that attention she just wanted the truth. Dawn realized now that she had gone about it all wrong.

Slipping quietly out of the dark house, Dawn made her way through Sunnydale, making her way to Spike’s crypt. Noises and footsteps in the night kept her alert and wary, but she pushed on. She was determined to find out what she was, if she was real or not and there was only one way she could think of to find out.

Spike heard her heartbeat before he heard her knock. He had known she would ask him; possibly show up at his crypt. Sighing, Spike called, “It’s open,” and watched Dawn walk in cautiously as he lit a few candles.

“Spike?” Dawn asked.

“Here, Bit,” Spike said, flicking his lighter to light another grouping of candles.

“Oh, uh, hey.” She knew what she wanted him to do, what she needed him to do…but asking him. That’s where she was running into a bit of trouble. How do you ask a vampire to please bite you, see if your blood tastes different then everyone else’s, but while you’re doing that, try not to kill me.

“No,” Spike said.

“What? No, what? I haven’t even asked you anything,” Dawn said, tossing her jacket over a chair and placing her hands on her hips.

“I know what you’re going to ask, and the answer is no. Not only can I not bite, but even if I could your sister would stake me in a second,” Spike said. He didn’t look at Dawn; he could already smell the tears on the air. He felt sorry for her, really he did. Spike actually liked her, even cared about her and thought it a shame that no one had told her sooner what she was and how she came to be. Instead, she’d had to find out by breaking into the Magic Box and rifling through Giles’ notes. He’d helped her, but even still, Buffy should have told her. Someone should have told her.

“I have to know! What am I? Is my blood real? Spike, please…please help me,” Dawn asked, tears streaming down her face.

Spike sighed. He really did want to help her find a way to let her know that no, she wasn’t like everyone else. He could tell that much just from the smell of her blood in her house earlier that night. There was something different about it. Not wrong, just…different. Fleetingly he wondered what it would taste like, if it would have the same amount of power in it that he imagined Willow would have if he were to drink from her.

“I just can’t. The chip, remember?”

“I, I can cut myself again, let you drink it that way…,” Dawn said trailing off. She looked up at him hopefully. He didn’t seem to realize how much she needed him to do this, how much it was killing her inside not to know. How different was she from everyone else? Was it to the point that everyone would be able to tell eventually? What if, when she grew up, something changed? It would always be in her, this energy, this key. It was her. It was what she’d been for centuries before becoming this girl, this key stuck in a teenager’s body.

The offer of free blood was tempting. It’d been so bloody long since the last time he’d had fresh warm blood. God, how he wanted to do this. However, could he control himself? Could he stop his bloodlust that, even now, was boiling up within him? His demon called him to do it, to take her in his arms and drink from her.

“Do you have any idea what you are asking?” Spike asked, finally turning to her. He leveled his gaze with her, showing her flashes of gold in his blue depths. “You, Niblet, are offering yourself up to me, a vampire.”

Dawn’s heartbeat sped up as she saw the purely feral look in Spike’s eyes. This was a side of him she’d not seen before and she wasn’t sure she liked it. She felt stalked, she felt like prey as he walked around her, looking her up and down. But, that was his point wasn’t it? To make her feel like prey, make her think twice about what it was she was doing, what she was offering him. Squaring her shoulders, Dawn looked up at him.

“Yes, I know what I’m offering. So, do you want it or not? I could always find another vampire—“

“Like hell you will!” Spike yelled, cutting her off. 

They stood there for a moment, looking at each other, trying to read the other’s thoughts. Dawn stood, arms crossed, waiting for him to say more. Spike on the other hand had an almost defeated look about him. He would do this for her, he knew it. It was him or some filthy fledgling that would end up killing her.

“On one condition,” Spike said, resignation clear in his voice. He would do it, but not before he made her promise him something first.

“What’s that?”

“Don’t ever bloody do something like this again. Don’t go wandering out to some fresh from the grave vampire, asking him to suck on you and see if you are real. Don’t go cutting yourself just to see if you bleed. And never, never tell Buffy.”

“Oh, uh….sure.”

“Right then, let’s get going with this. The sooner this is done, the sooner you can go home.” Spike said.

Dawn reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a small knife that she had grabbed from the kitchen before she’d come to Spike’s. It was small, but sharp, she’d made sure. Baring her wrist, Dawn went to cut it, but was stopped by Spike’s hand on hers. 

“Somewhere closer to the heart, Pet.” Taking her hand with the knife in it, Spike guided her hand to the base of her neck where it met her shoulder. “Nothing big, just a small cut.” He let go of her hand and she pulled the knife across her skin, making sure to cut deep enough for it to bleed.

Spike’s face morphed into the ridges and yellow eyes of his demonic features. He looked at Dawn, making sure she was all right. She was giving off a faint smell of fear, but it wasn’t quite as if she was afraid, but apprehensive. Moving behind her, Spike swept her hair from her neck and bent down to the cut. He inhaled deeply. It was an odd mixture of soap, shampoo, and the coppery smell of blood. But, he could also smell the slightly bitter magic. It was there, faint, but present. Darting his tongue out, Spike swiped up what blood had come to the surface. It was human blood, he was sure, even though he hadn’t had any in so long. There was just no mistaking it. Granted, she was infused with some type of magic, but it was human, innocent.

Spike pulled away, letting his human face come forward and went to get the first aid kit he always kept around. Taking out some disinfectant and a bandage, Spike went to work on cleaning Dawn’s cut. 

“So?” Dawn asked once he’d finished cleaning her cut. Him stalling was making her nervous. Stalling meant bad news. It meant that the person didn’t want to tell you what they knew.

“You’re human, Nibblet. Bit of magic tossed in, but human,” Spike said, setting the first aid kit aside.

“Oh,” Dawn said. “So, uh, then what about this key thing? I don’t understand. How could I be human?”

“You just are. I don’t bloody know how or why. Just take it. Now, it’s late. You should get home. I’ll walk you.”

Shutting the door behind them, Spike walked Dawn back to the Summers’ house and made sure she got in ok. Pulling out a cigarette, he watched as lights came on and went off, signaling that Dawn had made it to bed finally. 

He had not told her one thing though. He would not tell anyone. Dawn tasted like Buffy.


End file.
